Stealing a TARDIS
by AnitaHoward
Summary: The Doctor steals the Tardis. A companion piece to 'Flying Test'. Featuring a Young!First Doctor. One shot.


_Hello, everyone! Just like it says on the tin, this is the story about how the Doctor stole the Tardis. It's also a companion piece to my previous one-shot, 'Flying Test'. This has several references to that story, so I'd recommend reading that one before this. It's short, and lots of fun!_

_**Stealing a TARDIS**_

The Doctor did not look back at the Tardis, but walked slowly away. He could feel the Professor's eyes on him and all he wanted to do was get away, but he refused to run. Surely he could appeal to the High Council. No one could fault him just for helping someone; well, no one except beastly old Chromus. Of course, he had been in trouble enough at the Academy for speaking out against all the stupidity. No one would even look at him twice before sending him away.

He went by the Tardis docking bay, running his eyes over all the gleaming new Type 45s and 44s. All around him were the sounds of materializing and dematerializing, the most beautiful sounds in the world. He had blown his chances for sure; he wondered if anyone would even let him tag along once they learned what he had done. But no, he wanted his own. He didn't want to go where anyone else wanted; no quick jaunts across time, no hops to the nearest planet. With all of space and time in front of him, he could have gone anywhere, done anything. Saved a million others just like Alice. Maybe even gone back and seen how she was doing.

He reached out and touched a Tardis. It hummed slightly in his mind, but didn't connect. He shook his head and continued through the bay until he came to the repair shop. Possibly he could work on repairing Tardises. Maybe then someone would let him have an old ship that no one wanted.

The repair shop was vast, stretching on and on, and no one seemed to be around, although there were plenty of security cameras. He went past Tardis after Tardis; most of them Type 43s, notorious for shutting down if taken too far into the future, or not letting their owners back in for hours. As he went deeper into the shop, he found a Type 40. It looked like it had been shoved into a corner and forgotten.

The Doctor looked around. He couldn't see anyone. There didn't even seem to be a security cam in here.

Wondering if this Tardis was even alive, he put out his hand and touched it. Instantly it connected with his mind, much more powerfully than Chromus' Tardis had done. This one was free; apparently no one owned it. He smiled and a sudden thought came to him. Taking one more quick glance around, he tried the door. It opened. But he hesitated on the threshold. If he stole a Tardis, even a retired type that was never going to be repaired, then he would have to leave. No license, for one thing.

"Who cares?" he said aloud, and stepped inside.

The ship hummed; not just in his mind, but out loud. Her lights, which had been dim, brightened. He closed the door and then walked around the console. It was beautiful.

"Have you ever been to Earth?" he asked. "That's where we're going. But it's not the only place. I want to see the whole universe! What do you think?"

In response, several buttons pressed themselves and a lever flipped.

"That's my girl," he said as he put in the destination. _Earth, Chicago, 1955. _"Let's go!"

When he stepped out of the Tardis, the Doctor looked around. It was morning and he had landed in the city. It looked different, somehow, but he thought he could find his way.

He walked through crowded streets for about an hour before admitting that he had no idea where he was.

"Excuse me," he said to a man hurrying past. "Where am I?"

"I'm sorry, I don't speak English," the man said in French.

"Oh, pardon me," the Doctor corrected himself, switching to French. "I thought … never mind. Where am I, sir?"

"Are you drunk or something? This is Paris!" The man gestured to a tall structure off in the distance. "See, monsieur? The Eiffel Tower. Even a foreigner should be able to recognize that."

"Well, yeah, I'm a foreigner. The Eiffel tower? It's beautiful! Never heard of it before. Just for interest's sake, what year is it?"

"1985."

"Right. 1985." He smiled. The man shook his head and walked off, glancing back a few times before being swallowed up in the crowd. "1985," the Doctor repeated. "Maybe this is why my Tardis was in the shop. Well, apparently the Eiffel Tower is pretty famous; might as well go see it before I leave. 1955 isn't going anywhere."

_A/N: This is still within canon. The Doctor here is young, not married and certainly not a grandfather. He also _looks _young as well. If he's, what, seven hundred in 'An Unearthly Child', and he only looks in his seventies, then he has quite a ways to go before he even stops looking like a teenager._

_Thanks for reading!_


End file.
